*Being Published in 2022*
❝You can't deny that you're attracted to me, Nyx. Instead of fighting it, let's see what happens,❞ he grumbled, hands roaming my body. His thumb brushed my bottom lip. ❝Open up for me, baby.❞
...
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There was one thing that always exasperated me about those coming of age books and movies; the friendship aspect of things. I'd always detested the way those stories played out. You'd be standing in line at a grocery store, wanting to buy a carton of milk or some shit, and then the cashier would say something about how that batch of milk was expired. And the only other person in the line who had expired milk was this dorky person who laughed at the misfortune you both walked into. The cashier would then take you to fetch new milk and you and your new friend realised this was the start of a glorious friendship.
That wasn't how it worked in the real world. But if it did happen to you, congrats bro, you were one of the lucky ones. Many of us didn't have that privilege. The world wasn't the same as it was during the time our parents were growing up. Kids started gossiping and bullying as young as four years old. It was horrifying to sit through a class and constantly stressing about whether anyone was talking about you behind your back. Making friends was tough. There wasn't a love-at-first-sight thing going on. I could honestly say, none of my friends trusted one another when we first met, or liked one another. It took time. Even if we had a meet-cute, we were still wary about the next person.
Grayson was the perfect example. We didn't start off great. I was a spoilt only child, I'd admit that, and he came from a struggling family. We met back in middle school and didn't necessarily like each other. Sometimes, you had to go through the worst to discover who you could truly rely on. That one day in middle school, when Grayson appeared looking like the living dead, his friends hadn't bothered to question him. They didn't question when he missed a few days or when he spent lunch sobbing in the toilet. Nobody said a damn thing.
But I overheard my dad talking about the Barnes family one night at dinner. I didn't understand what he was going through, nobody did, and I didn't try to understand either. All I knew was that nobody deserved to suffer through something like that on their own. I was the worst at advice, and I soon came to discover that was his forte.
I'd been by Grayson's side through the worst, watched him claw at his bedroom walls, struggle with drugs and drinking through high school. I never told him what to do. It was an unspoken rule between us. There was a difference between telling someone what to do and letting them see things from your viewpoint. I didn't tell him to stop drinking and smoking, but I made it clear what would happen to him, how his parents would feel.
I followed the rules of our friendship. If only the fucker would do the same now. "Are you telling me to forgive Rafe?" I sought, not attempting to conceal the outrage in my voice and character. My dad had suggested the same thing before.
